"The complete poems" by Emily Bronte

Another short excerpt on poetry, this time from someone you wouldn't expect. Everyone knows about the bronte sisters, but not everyone knows that Emily Bronte wrote volumes enough of poetry to equal her book "Wuthering Heights."

The poems reveal a brooding, and perhaps unhappy person, who wrote to express, rather than with a wish to see them published. I'll include a couple of my favourite verses, as there is a whole book-full! (due to space, these are not necessarily in order)

Today, I will seek not the shadowy region;
Its unsustaining vastness waxes drear;
And visions rising legion after legion,
Bring the unreal world too strangely near.

What have those lonely mountains worth revealing?
More glory and more grief than I can tell,
The earth that wakes one human heart to feeling,
Can centre both the worlds of heaven and hell.

Vain are the thousand creeds
That move men's hearts, unutterably vain,
Worthless as withered weeds
Or idlest froth amid the boundless main.

There is not room for death
Nor atom that his might could render void
Thou, Thou art being and breath
And what thou art may never be destroyed.

These poems/verses give you the impression that they were extremely private, and not composed for the public appetite, which I think makes them all the more sincere and profound.